


welcome home.

by nobodysdarlin



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Chibs is bad at it, Domestic, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, SAMCRO - Freeform, Smuttless, explaining Chibs weight loss, let's start at the beginning, starting off, tea time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:17:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6687016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobodysdarlin/pseuds/nobodysdarlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Juice gets out of Stockton and into something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	welcome home.

**Author's Note:**

> title from "welcome home, son" by radical face.  
> this could have been better but i have been messing around with this idea in my head for months..why chibs held off for so long, and why he lost all that weight. figured i would just post it. enjoy.

“Are you gonna shave that head of yours? You look like a right fucking idiot.”

Well, that was certainly one way to welcome him home.

Juice had just gotten out of Stockton and was trying to readjust to a normal life. For someone so tightly wound and sensitive, prison didn’t grind him down like most assumed it would. He liked the discipline. The regularity. The normalcy of it all. The last year and a half had been an accelerated blur of engines, Irish country side, and food that was the furthest thing from organic.

And suddenly here he was again, back at home on his couch, Chibs puttering around in the kitchen jonesing for food like nothing had happened.

“Don’ understand the American justice system. Can get weed inside but can’ get a proper haircut.” Chibs said again, talking to himself.

Juice laughed, rubbing his hands over his head. It was always weird feeling his coarse hair instead of a smooth shave he’d employed over the years. The haircut could wait. Juice was going to enjoy doing absolutely nothing –on his own accord- for the first time in months.He had sprawled out on the couch, head on the headrest, hands neatly folded over his chest, gazing around the room with the TV buzzing in the background.

The house had stayed relatively clean with Chibs watching over it while Juice was inside, and he was grateful to not be in the throes of an OCD fueled panic attack from clutter. His eyes landed on Chibs, who was standing in the hallway that separated the kitchen from the living room, thumbing a thread coming out of the couch. He looked at him, taking in the sight he’d realized he’d missed so much while he was inside. He’d noticed a change in his face the moment he saw him outside the prison. His hair was shorter, bangs longer though still loped in his face, but something else was different. His cheeks were much leaner, scars laying differently on the man’s face, jawline sharp and cheeks hollowed. Handsome, even. Now that his cut and leather shirt were off though, the real difference was clear. The buttons of his shirt were laying differently as well. They seemed to have much less straining behind them. Juice lifted his head up, eyes narrowing with interest.

“You lose weight Chibbie?” Juice asked, almost accusingly.

Chibs looked up at him from between his bangs, pulling from his beer and grinning into it just slightly.

“Aye, might have lost a fair bit. Had to keep myself busy while yous’all were away.” He said simply, his smile fading.

Juice mouthed a long and silent “Oooh” as he looked away, not wanting to press the man anymore. When the club was split up, it was easy to feel left out. Even locked up, they were at least together. Those who remained in Charming couldn’t help but to feel a little alienated. Chibs found all his time alone with his thoughts was suppressed when he was exhausting himself hitting the bag that hung in the dorms. The weight loss came quicker than the mental clarity he was searching for.

Chibs was still standing, his tall frame taking up so much room in Juice’s small house. As good as he was on his own; Chibs admitted to himself he had missed Juice. What started off as him grabbing Juice’s mail every week slowly turned into him crashing on the couch after a bender, eventually finding his way up the stairs after a few times to Juice’s room. The first time he’d slept there, he’d been wary of the too-clean sheets and the permanent smell of bleach in the bathroom, but he’d learned to respect and find comfort in it. Juice was probably the only mechanic in the world that could keep white towels in pristine condition, and after ruining a few, Chibs had started bringing his own to leave at the house. Shoes, a toothbrush and undershirts followed over time, collecting space among Juice’s things like they belonged there. Juice noticed Chibs stuck in his own head. He had a habit of letting his mouth go slack and jutting out his lower jaw, tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth. He only did this when he was thinking of something to say or when he was angry. Based on the silence between them, Juice figured the former and prodded at him.

“Chibs? What’s up man?”

“Yeah…just remembering, I’ve got to grab some shite I left upstairs. Crashed here a few weeks ago. Lost power at my place.” He lied, pulling at his beer and shifting his weight.

 _What was he so nervous for?_ Juice thought to himself. They’d both done time before, together and separately, but something about this reunion felt different. Chibs turned and went up the stairs wordlessly, leaving Juice on the couch for a few minutes alone. He shrugged off the weirdness as just him getting used to being on the outside again, nothing more, nothing less. He wasn’t going to dwell on how long they’d hugged each other outside of Stockton this afternoon. He wasn’t going to think about the nights he’d laid up in his bunk, replaying conversations in his head, trying to make sense out of words and wondering if it was his weed-laden memory that was wrong or if his brain was making up meanings that weren’t there. Just like Chibs wasn’t going to admit how much he’d missed sitting alone in the clubhouse, drunk and wordless, legs warm next to Juice on the couch, laughing at nothing at 4 in the morning. He wasn’t going to read into the fact that he couldn’t sleep at home anymore because the only thing that kept his eyes shut were Juice’s gray sheets and the faint smell of him still in the house.

Chibs came down the stairs with his arms loaded. Worn out pink towels, dirty jeans with the belts still looped through them, blue sweatshirt hanging over his shoulder.

“Shit! You move in?” Juice laughed, nodding at the pile in the man’s hand.

Chibs snorted, chucking his head to the side to get his hair out of his face. He dropped his things in a pile by the door. Their outward conversation was not matching the inner dialogue the men were both silently having. Juice couldn’t bring himself to just say “Come here man. Sit down. I’ve missed you.” And Chibs certainly couldn’t say it either. He looked at Chibs, who was now standing in the small entry way not saying anything.

“Been thinkin’.” He said finally, staring at a space on the wall, not looking over at Juice.

“About…?” Juice asked, sitting up on the couch, palms resting on his knees, ready to listen to whatever pyscho babble bullshit Chibs liked to spurt off when he was this drunk.

As if reading his mind, Chibs stated: “Now I ain’ had but that beer just now. So listen. I’m not sure how to go about it, alrigh’?”

Juice nodded slowly, eyes narrowing a little as he raised his eyebrows with a confused smile. “Go about what?”

Chibs grunted non-commitally and shrugged, saying something that might have been English but between mumbling and his accent, Juice had no idea. Chibs walked to the kitchen and started opening and closing cabinets, water running, putting the conversation on pause for teatime.

Juice got up and blamed the perceived weirdness to post prison blues. Maybe Juice hadn’t been social for so long he was misreading others actions. He’d just have to adjust.

Chibs was bracing himself against the sink, water running behind him. Juice leaned on the counter across from him, trying to analyze the situation. It was probably the first time he wasn’t sure what to do when it came to Chibs. Over the years of their friendship, it was usually Chibs who was trying to get Juice to calm down and be rational. But Juice had his fair share of wrangling Chibs. A drunk Chibs could be corralled. A heart-worn Chibs could be handled. A sober Chibs who wasn’t making sense though? Juice didn’t have the guidelines for that.

So, he stole a tried-and-true play from Chibs: strong arming the man into a hug and kiss to ground him.

“Come here man. Thanks for watching the house. Love you, brother.”

It was a simple exchange that they’d all done a thousand times as members of SAMCRO. A hug. A clap on the back. A kiss. Back to hugging. One more kiss.

The second kiss was just as innocent at the first, but it ended in a feverish straightening of forearms like a light switch had been flipped, both men holding each other out at arm’s length, on edge, eyes wide in question. They stood there, water still running behind them, for what seemed like an hour. Chibs kept his eyes locked on Juice, who was breathing heavily, neither one of them loosening their grips. Chibs broke first. He let his hands go slack, still holding the collar of Juice’s white t-shirt, but not keeping him in place by any means. His arms followed suit, going lax and merely hanging between them, bridging their bodies together.

“Hey. _Hey_.” He said, dipping his head down and looking Juice in the face, searching for a sign as to whether or not he needed to simply back off or take off out of the house completely.

“Fucking really?” Juice asked quietly, pushing Chibs back softly.

Chibs bristled, unsure of the tone Juice was using. Was he mad? He wasn’t swinging at him, which was good. There was no anger between them; the air was calm- relieved almost. So why was Juice looking at him like that?

“You wait until the day I get out to decide that this is how you want to start it?”

“I-I wait? I wait? Fuckin hell Juice, I’ve been trying to figure this out for…” Chibs trailed off, unsure of how to answer.

Juice cracked a smile, sighing. “I know. Would have been nice a little sooner.”

And that was that.

**Author's Note:**

> all my nightmares escape my head  
> bar the door, please don't let them in  
> you were never supposed to leave  
> now my head's splitting at the seams


End file.
